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Gedo to Ghetto: Life and Times of Sadaam

Lil Sadaam was excited to finally be leaving the Dadaab refugee camp in NFD. It had been over 3 years since he left his lucrative job as a goat herder in Gedo to apply for the isbonsor sent by his Eedo in America. Sadaam made his daily trip to the Qaxooti Resettlement which was located on the outskirts of the camp to see if his name was listed on the board of approved Isbonorees. This day was different from all those days of heartbreak and despair, Sadaam's isbonsor was approved ! He was scheduled to leave Kenya in two weeks. Sadaam was overjoyed with happiness and could not control himself as he began doing the traditional victory dance of Gedo. The Cadaan staff were amused at how the chubby kid could dance.

Sadaam trekked back to his makeshift tent that he shared with his Abti, Habaryar, and their children. His habaryar had prepared a dinner consisting of cambuulo and began serving it to the dozen people who shared the tent. The family gathered around and began sharing the food that was served on three large plates. Sadaam ducked down and began eating away rapidly after all it was the survival of the fittest in this harsh camp.

"I am tired of eating this crappy WFP food aid. I eat and sh*t cambuulo !" he thought as he had yet another bowl of cambuulo. Sadaam longed for the USA, a land with streets paved of gold, running water, food that was served quickly and that was cambuulo free. Young Sadaam had great plans for himself when he got to the US.

Weeks had passed and Sadaam finally got confirmation of his flight on yet another trek to the Qaxooti Resettlement Camp. He was overjoyed and began to do the traditional Gedo Dance of Victory. Once again, he looked like a man possessed as he danced wildly.

Sadaam still could not believe his good fortune and began talking to himself on his trek back to his tent. He set out to celebrate his departure. Sadaam called his Habaryar to send $200 for him to buy some new clothes and to throw a little party for all his friends in the camp. A few days later, he got a courier from the Dahabshiil office informing him that the money was sent.

Sadaam immediately began preparing for his trip. He stopped by the Sudanese tailor to get several suits made because he wanted to look like those Cadaan at the qaxooti office. The Sudanese tailor was stunned at the size of Sadaam after all it was a qaxooti camp yet Sadaam looked like was eating and living well. The next stop for Sadaam was the Qaxooti General Store were he ordered soft drinks, biscuits, sweets and other treats for the party which was going to happen that evening. Sadaam still had some money left over and was wondering where to hide it. As he walked to his tent, Sadaam invited his friends to attend the upcoming bash.

Ninyaho Qosol baa igu dhisha

sadaam

dont forget your roots in kenya

It was a party never seen b4 in neither that camp nor any other camp in the NFD/Turkana zone. There was an abundance of water mixed with powdered orange juice and cooled with ice cubes, women were busy cooking goat meat, rice and tons of Cambuulo and bun, Sadaam's small tape recorder was blasting the neighborhood with Hassan Aden/Nakrumah songs with intervals of traditional dances where Sadaam was the main attraction, as he was jumping higher than a possessed masaai moran.

Ilko Yar from all nearby camps trekked into the tent, dusty footed from the long walk, showing their protruded frontal teeth with a smile to secure a nice juicy piece of goat meat or a shin bone to sukk the marrow from (believing it serves for medicinal purpose). Sadaam was busy serving the guests and showing off one of his newly tailored loud blinding yellow suits with a matching tie that is knotted like a rope (almost choking him)

After some time, the clouds dispersed revealing a full moon and everyone was out of the tent, this was a relief for Sadaam. His chubby body was sweating like a pig in that tent and he wasn't able to show his moves of the traditional dance due to lack of space.

The traditional dance known as “dhul-gariir” performed by saddam_marixmaan was well known and profoundly effective in 3 countries. At the tender age of five saddam f baby unleashed “dhul-gariir” ritual dance and miraculously food appeared under a specific qurac tree. People from all walks of life in dire strait came to saddam f baby when in need of help. His widely credited with helping save the communities of degadoi, Barooan, cuwlihaan/cabudwaq, from mass starvation in Kenya and some scholars even argue that solja_boi swagga jack saddam cus “superman that ho3” part was part of the original ritual.

[quote="Advocatar"]The traditional dance known as “dhul-gariir” performed by saddam_marixmaan was well known and profoundly effective in 3 countries. At the tender age of five saddam f baby unleashed “dhul-gariir” ritual dance and miraculously food appeared under a specific qurac tree. People from all walks of life in dire strait came to saddam f baby when in need of help. His widely credited with helping save the communities of degadoi, Barooan, cuwlihaan/cabudwaq, from mass starvation in Kenya and some scholars even argue that solja_boi swagga jack saddam cus “superman that ho3” part was part of the original ritual.[/quote]

DAMN

allow me to write the ending to this tale, i want to put him in a car in Honduras like Lisa Left Eye Lopez. I'll have him losing control and crashing his car, burning alive while strapped to his seatbelt like a scene from Final Destination.

your cold screw!!!!


But nice writing peoples.

Screw,

still kissing Bill Maher's ass ??